


Courting Rituals

by Too_Many_Seeds



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/M, implied sexual relationship, lots of misunderstandings, mild violence, oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 12:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Many_Seeds/pseuds/Too_Many_Seeds
Summary: John Seed tries to confess his feelings to the Deputy. Unfortunately, he’s not very good at it.





	Courting Rituals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outranks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outranks/gifts).



> Warnings: Some mild violence (involving a wild animal - typical of in-game). Implied sexual relationship.

Rook really shouldn’t have been surprised that Nick Rye had managed to squirrel away some of the best food in the county. 

Not that she was complaining; the way things were around Hope County, she was grateful to have a place to get a rare glimpse at dessert when the sweet tooth beckoned. 

So as she sat down, it was, of course, just her luck that her radio clicked to life.

“Deputy,” the familiar, saccharine voice of John Seed greeted her, and she closed her eyes in a grimace. 

“What do you want, John?” She asked, holding the spoonful of her sugary prize inches from her mouth. 

“I have a gift waiting for you, dear. A gesture of sorts, you could say,” came his response, and her eyebrows rose. His last gift had left her pleasantly sore for quite a few days, and so she lowered her spoon expectantly. He continued, smug now that he knew he had her attention. “Go the Lamb of God church. You’ll see what I mean.” 

The click ended the call, and Rook gave a forlorn glance down to her cup of ice-cream. 

“Guess you’ll have to wait,” she muttered with a pout. “Good dick waits for no dessert.” 

The day was clear as she drove per his instructions; the weather brisk but sunny, and she was soon able to spot the out-of-place sign by the brick walls of the church. Frowning, Rook pulled up and peered out the side of her window, narrowing her eyes. 

The sign was deliberately placed in front of the brick wall, and featured some old business advertisement - likely defunct by now. There was a number listed across the sign, a triple 4 in the middle and the rest redacted with black paint. Above that, rather concerningly, was written: 

_ Kill you _

xxxx-444-xxx

Rook scoffed at the scene, jerking back and slamming down on the accelerator; trying to sort through her confused anger and utter bewilderment.

“What the  _ fuck,  _ John?” She hissed into the radio, not even checking if he was there. “Fuck, if this is your way of telling me you want to end...whatever  _ this _ is, then I really don’t appreciate it.” 

There wasn’t even a pause before he answered. 

“What?” He replied, and if she wasn’t so irritated, she might have noticed how equally confused he sounded. “Didn’t you see my message?” 

“Yeah, I did,” she said and shook her head, even though he wouldn’t see it. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, but  _ don’t _ contact me.” 

She turned the radio off, deaf to his spluttering protests. Perhaps, if she weren’t distracted by her own reaction to his perceived death threat, she might have questioned his confusion. As it was, the message was sore; her recent relationship with John leading her to believe that something had at least changed between them. 

“It’s just John Seed,” Nick reassured her later over dinner, “I wouldn’t think too hard about it.” 

Rook tried to smile back at him over the plate of barbecued meat in her hands but she didn’t manage much more than a grimace. 

“Don’t worry, Dep,” Nick continued, obliviously. “He won’t get his hands on you.” 

She choked, coughing to hide the surprise and hiding her embarrassment with another shovel of meat in her mouth. 

“That’s...That’s not the problem,” Rook replied, because John Seed had most definitely already had his hands on her before, and she hadn’t been complaining. 

Which made his behaviour all the more confusing, and she did not feel particularly guilty at sneering at John Seed’s smarmy billboard the following day. 

“ _ We love you _ ,” she read from the sign, and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, of course you do.” 

She was briefly contemplating how the billboard would look after a few vindictive Molotovs, but she was interrupted from any plots as she rounded the corner. Immediately in the road ahead was a line of off-white trucks; a line of ducklings one by one forming a barricade. Rook jerked in place as she rushed to step on the brakes, but it was too late to avoid being seen. 

She swore and reached for the handgun on the seat at her side, fumbling to load it as she saw the Peggies in the near distance shuffling into a formation. Since the beginning of her... _ whatever-it-was-called _ with John, she’d certainly had less troubles with the Peggies but that didn’t mean she was comfortable around them, especially not after John’s recent ‘gift’. 

Rook raised her gun, shifting the truck gear deftly with one hand to prepare to book it away, when she noticed that the Peggies, rather alarmingly, weren’t trying to shoot at her. 

She squinted at them, noticing that they instead appeared to be...lining up. There was something in their hands, a large printed-out sign that they were steadily balancing between them.

The Peggie at the furthest end glanced up to confirm that she was watching, and then started to unroll the sign; passing it along down each member of the line. 

She froze; not quite able to comprehend what she was seeing. 

Printed on the sign was...a  _ nightmare _ . 

It was supposed to be a baby - that much she was sure of. The face of the creature, however, appeared to be a mashed version of both her and John Seed’s faces, beard and middle-age crow’s feet included; creating a rather grotesque image that had her mouth falling open. 

“What...the  _ fuck _ ?” She muttered, shaking her head and unable to tear her eyes away in some strangely morbid curiosity. 

The Peggie at the end of the line peered at the windscreen of her car to make sure she had seen the image. She vaguely remembered him to be named Levi - a regular around John’s ranch and surprisingly pleasant to hold a conversation with. 

“Deputy, I have a message!” The Peggie called out to her, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth for volume. She stared at him, bordered as he was by the grotesque photoshopped creature. “Brother John says that you would make perfect babies together.” 

Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a mortified gape while the Peggie Levi triumphantly gestured to the image of the baby next to him. 

He barely had the chance to show her an encouraging thumbs-up before she’d kicked the accelerator into gear; tires burning on faded rubber as she sped off down the road in a whirl. Behind her in the mirror, she spotted Levi’s shoulders slumping down dejectedly, but she paid it little mind as she ripped the handheld radio from her bag and brought it to her mouth. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ are you playing at?” She hissed, other hand clenched tight around the steering wheel as she whirled past an open field. Rook bit her lip to keep from pouring out a diatribe of insults - the testament to her fury - but she refused to scold on deaf ears. 

It was a tense silence in the car, with the rumbling of the engine on the walls around her somehow stoking her anger in thrums. Finally, the click sounded as his voice cut through. 

“I take it you didn’t appreciate my gift,” John Seed replied, saccharine and honey replaced with something almost cautious that she couldn’t quite pin down. 

“Your  _ gift? _ ” She repeated, incredulous as she took a left towards the orchards. “You call that a fucking gift?” 

There was another moment of silence, and she wondered whether John was genuinely unsure about what to say. She wondered whether he even understood her anger at all. A man of a Hollywood-esque sign in the hills of the valley did not seem to often court subtlety. 

“It was meant to be a gesture. I thought you...might appreciate it,” John began, voice evocative of a man poking at thin ice with a pick. “Given your…tendencies within my bedsheets, you understand.” 

She went too hard at the corner, car squeaking as she pulled to the right. 

“That’s dirty talk,” Rook scowled, knuckles white against the wheel. “And a kink. Doesn’t mean I’m ready to see your amateur photoshop job of baby pictures” 

She clenched her jaw tight, ignoring his splutterings about her insult to his ‘very professional, I assure you’ photoshop skills. 

“Look, John,” Rook began, sighing as her wrath tempered into something bitter and mournful, “is this...is this just your way of trying to break things off?” She didn’t release the radio button, not yet allowing him to speak until her piece had been had. “I...Fuck, I know… ‘this’ thing we have has been hard on you - it’s been hard on me too. But if you want this done, then just... _ say  _ it.” 

_ Enough with the bullshit gestures _ , she thought, scowling through the scorn. Because that was the truth; after all that had passed between them - the nights where something brief turned into mornings curled in the other’s arms by the fire; kisses stolen between moments of chaos through the valley - it hurt to think he couldn’t give her the courtesy of a straight rejection. 

She released the button, and he leapt to answer. 

“ _ Break things off? _ ” He repeated, something deep compelling him to match her with indignation. “This is... _ that  _ is what you’ve interpreted from this?” 

“From death threats and that mockery?” She shot back, a flush on her cheeks as she came to the base of a bridge; pulling over to a stop and leaning her head back against the rest. “I don’t know if this a break-up, or...some strange tactic to push me away, but it’s what you’re getting.” She eyed the bridge, seeing the hint of mist gathering across the river, and she sighed. “I’ll be in the Henbane. You won’t be able to reach me.”

_ Don’t try,  _ went unsaid. 

Rook didn’t give him the chance to respond, setting the radio down at the car seat and stepping on the accelerator. She heard the crackles of him trying to reach her; trying to press through the static frequency with clawed hands, but the roll of the bridge under her tires masked any words until she crossed into the Henbane and they faded out. 

Never had the boundaries between the regions been more convenient, even if she was somewhat certain that John Seed was seething somewhere deep within the valley behind her. 

Her hands were clenched tightly on the steering wheel as she headed to the marina; her lips pulled into a frown as she glared at anything that moved outside the vehicle. She didn’t like to fight, especially not with John, who had once pressed kisses to the side of her neck while she whispered her dreams for the future into the warm silence of his bedroom. But it was with a cold resolve that she kept her pace steady, whirling down the road towards the marina; fog and static in her wake. 

Rook was lucky she’d arrived when she did. Barely a minute had passed since she’d scuffed her boots against the dirt drive when she’d caught sight of Sharky exiting the pilot seat of Tulip, guiltily red and sheepish.

Adelaide was following behind - understandably not amused. 

“What the  _ hell _ were you thinking?” She scowled, berating them as she furiously wiped down the side of her helicopter. It wasn’t scratched, but Rook knew how the older woman felt about men taking the wheel of her baby. 

Rook leaned against the fence, arms crossed and watching as two grown men explained how they thought it would somehow be a brilliant - and completely safe - idea to teach Charlemagne Victor Boshaw the third how to pilot a helicopter. With guns. Very  _ big _ guns. 

“It was like...totally a great plan, Addie,” Xander kept trying to insist as Adelaide all but dragged the two men inside. 

“Yeah, we were gonna go blazin’ on those angel dipshits,” Sharky added on eagerly, inadvertently proving why it was absolutely the furthest thing from a good idea. “See how many we could knock out.” 

Rook scoffed, announcing her presence. 

“Sharky, you’ve never flown in your life,” she pointed out, remembering the disastrous attempt when she’d first recovered Tulip weeks ago. “Maybe not a good idea to start now.” 

“ _ Especially  _ not in my bird,” Addie added, glaring at her nephew while she grabbed her beau and made for a nearby storage shed. Rook did  _ not  _ want to know how she was planning to scold Xander, and instead made for the main marina building.

Sharky took off his hat politely as he ducked through the doorway, stowing it under his arm and ruffling his pressed hair. 

“But Rook, you ever played dominos?” He asked, eyes still bright with his plan. “One goes down and boom! Down and down they go, like the Angels and Peggies, you know?” 

Rook sighed, shaking her head. 

“That’s not quite how it works with Peggies,” she replied, making her way to the counter and reaching under the bench for a drink. She rummaged up a soda, just slightly cooled in the fridge and a nice relief from the warm day. “They’re still people, you know.” 

Sharky made a face as he sank into the sofa, scooping up a nearby beer and taking a swig.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re riding one,” Sharky said, somewhat petulantly. 

Rook flushed red and glanced out the window to make sure that nobody had overheard. 

“Sharky,  _ quiet, _ ” she hissed, gesturing to the open doors. Her friend threw his hands up in surrender, but didn’t seem too worried; the marina being uncommonly quiet today. 

Sharky had unfortunately stumbled upon an impromptu  _ liaison  _ of hers a few weeks back and despite his vow of secrecy, had never stopped the occasional dig at her choice of bedfellow. 

“Besides,” she continued, louder and casual with her grievance, “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on there right now.” 

Sharky frowned, pouting around the rim of his beer. 

“With Old Johnny?” 

She nodded, pursing her lips into a grimace. 

“Yeah,” Rook said, leaning back against the countertop. “I don’t know. He’s just been acting weird lately.” She felt the familiar flash of irritation. “He’s just one thing and then another. First it’s death threats and then it’s talk of babies.” 

That made Sharky perk up.

“Holy shit;  _ babies _ ?” Sharky repeated, straightening in the sofa. “You mean the cute little wrinkly ones?” 

She frowned, almost afraid to ask what other babies he might mean. 

“I just don’t get it,” Rook admitted, arms crossing over her chest. “It’s like he’s  _ trying  _ to scare me off. Why the fuck would he do that?” 

_ He doesn’t want you,  _ came her nasty thought.

“You ever thought he’s in some kind of love with you?” Rook jumped slightly as she saw Adelaide leaning against the entryway, one of Xander’s trademark smoothies in her hand and lipstick ever-so-slightly smudged. 

Rook sighed, grimacing as Adelaide lazily made her way into the room. 

“How much did you hear?” Rook asked warily. To her surprise, Adelaide threw her head back and laughed. 

“Oh, please! Anyone with half a brain could see how much he wanted to bend you over and take a ride,” the older woman said, and near-cackled at how it made Rook flush in embarrassment. She leaned forward and held a hand up to stage-whisper, “and you rode him right back, so I hear. Gotta spill those details to your good friend Addie, hon.” 

Rook glanced up at the ceiling, sighing heavily. 

“Judging by what you heard, I don’t think there’ll  _ be  _ any details, Adelaide,” she replied.

Sharky sniffed from his side of the room, crossing his arms and shaking his head; ruffling the flamingo-pink fluff of the couch throw behind him. 

“Still not buying it.” He shrugged. “Johnny Boy’s got a raging hard on for you the size of Nick’s plane.”

“Still didn’t answer; think he could be in love with you?” Adelaide said, taking another sip from her smoothie. “‘Cause I don’t know about you, honey, but it sounds like he’s got more than just a hard on for you.” 

“A  _ heart _ - _ on,”  _ Sharky helpfully added on, nodding meaningfully at her. 

Rook wanted to believe them; a schoolgirl warmth in her chest making her want it to be true. The mornings spent waking by John’s side - leaning into the crook of his neck and waking him softly with kisses until he rolled her underneath him where she belonged - had made her hope dangerously; had left her searching through every gesture for something  _ more _ , something that she had thought was all but said.

“He’s got a shitty way of showing it then,” Rook replied, bruised still by his strange messages. She shook her head, pushing off the counter and making her way to collapse in the sofa at Sharky’s side. “And this is  _ John;  _ man loves his own voice. You’d think he’d be more than willing to broadcast a love confession all through the county.” 

Adelaide sobered, sensing the bruise in the words and Rook wondered if that was pity in her eyes. She hoped not. 

“Could be he’s never been in love before,” was all the older woman said, leaving them to drink in silence. 

Addie was good for that; she’d joke about things and rarely used a proper filter, but she was the first to know when to leave well enough alone. She just clapped Rook on the shoulder as she passed, letting her know there was a bed for her and she was welcome to stay as long as she needed. 

The marina’s beds were a godsend, and Rook thanked whatever deity was watching her for the creation of satin sheets. For the first time in a while, she was able to just relax; thankfully with no pesky thoughts of a certain Seed who made her melt at a glance. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. 

“You’ve got to be  _ joking _ ,” Rook muttered, staring in abject horror at the television. Sharky stood behind her, hand on her shoulder for support.

John Seed had made another infomercial. 

“Are those... _ rose  _ petals?” Sharky asked, squinting at the screen.  

Adelaide padded her way into the room, hair wrapped in a towel and her morning dressing gown loosely bound by her waist. She whistled at the sight of the stage John had set up, flowers and petals dotting the walkway where he stood. Behind him, Rook could see the three other Seeds; Joseph smiling patiently with his hands folded in his lap, Faith watching the crowd serenely, and Jacob staring up at the sky as though he wished he could be anywhere but there. 

“ _ Brothers and sisters, _ ” John began, voice booming and performative, and Rook groaned. “ _ The Father says for us to love all. But what does that mean?” _

“I don’t know, Johnny; what does it mean?” Rook muttered, crossing her arms and trying to act as though her ego  _ wasn’t  _ bruised at the mention of love. 

_ “This world will soon be devoured by the flames of the Collapse,”  _ John continued, hand over his chest; the Baptist swearing his truth. “ _ But we will be safe. We will keep each other and our loved ones close through the destruction and the chaos.”  _ He began to take slow steps towards the end of the walkway; moving closer to the camera and his eyes boring into the lens as though he was reaching through the screen and suddenly addressing her entirely. “ _ That is what he means; that is what I want. I want nothing more than to keep my loved...one...close during the Collapse; to hold them in my arms and keep them utterly safe.”  _

John smiled, breaking the moment and spreading his arms wide. 

“ _ Because that is the will of the Father,” _ he said, returning to the showman once more. 

Rook rolled her eyes and shut the stupid thing off. 

“Hey, I was watching that!” Sharky complained, only half-serious, but Rook was seething. 

“I’m ending this,” she muttered, slipping her shoes on and pushing her way out the door. 

Adelaide called out behind her.

“Take the back roads if you don’t want to be seen!” She said, chipper despite the chill of the morning. “Good luck, honey!”

Rook didn’t reply as she stalked to the driveway of the marina, hearing the eerie notes of a melody as she approached. 

The hint of Bliss in the air had her nose crinkling into a scowl as she saw Faith Seed dancing in a circle by the side of Rook’s truck. 

She scowled at the other woman, uncaring of whether she was corporeal or not. 

“I thought I’d be left alone here,” Rook scowled, with just a hint of betrayal. 

Faith stopped dancing and Rook swore the exasperated expression on the woman’s face was entirely Rachel. 

“Don’t blame  _ me _ ,” she replied, shrugging once before vanishing into her telltale cloud of Bliss fog. 

Rook coughed, shaking her head to rid herself of the Bliss before wrenching her truck door open; pointedly blowing the dust away. 

If John Seed couldn’t come out and tell her straight whatever the fuck he was thinking, then she was going to make him. 

The back roads were always frustrating, as it appeared as though very few civilians in the county knew how to  _ drive _ , but Adelaide was right in that it would let her slip unseen into John’s region. The last thing she wanted was for him to be prepared with another one of his stupid gestures. 

The radio was cheering her along merrily with a golden oldie, and she sighed as she slowly went through the spray of river water along the road; unofficially now moving into the valley. The car rumbled along, and she allowed her thoughts to wander; trying to rummage up something to say through her frustration, something to throw all of her feelings back at John and see if he could distinguish anything from them. 

Distracted, she didn’t see the Bliss-hazed moose until it crashed into the side of her car. 

There was a shattering of glass, and she barely registered what was happening as it upended her truck with a near effortless brace against the side. She had time to screech as she felt herself roll; giving a shout of pain as she slammed against the door as the truck landed. 

She shook her head, blinking warily as she peered out the smashed window to see the beast stomping at the ground; the haze of familiar fog marking it as much more than an ordinary moose. 

“Fuck,” she muttered, voice hoarse. She believed a man from the Resistance had asked her to deal with this creature before she’d left - she’d thought him raving mad in his descriptions of a Judge  _ Moose _ \- but it appeared as though someone up high was laughing at her. 

She gave a yelp as it hit the side of the car again, sending the vehicle skidding back and colliding into the side of a tree. Rook jerked at the impact, trying to brace herself as best she could. 

She heard a clatter, and saw her handgun slide just underneath the passenger seat. Hearing the scraping of the beast’s hooves, she flung her arm forward, desperately trying to reach for her weapon. If she could  _ just _ …get a little bit farther. 

The hoofbeats were heavy on the ground and she shut her eyes to try and brace for the next and likely last impact. 

Instead, she heard the sound of screeching tires. Harsh, continuous streams of bullets - a machine gun, she thought - crashed through the clearing and she winced as she heard the furious cry of the beast as it was successfully distracted with its new enemy. 

There were more shouts as she heard extra guns join the fray; heavy gunners and familiar battle taunts. 

It was over quickly, and Rook waited with held breath as she heard very human footsteps now approach the door. 

A man crouched down by the window, familiar and shrewd eyes surveying her condition and softening when they found her unharmed. 

“You’re safe,” John Seed breathed, tension easing from his brow. He wrenched the door open - the poor thing already partially opened due to the dents - and reached across to free her from her buckle. She winced as he helped her from the car, holding her up as she found her feet again. 

Her saviours included a small group of Peggies; all huddled around a cult truck with the machine guns she’d heard. She recognised the nearest Peggie Levi, and gave him a nod when she saw his worried expression. 

Taking a look at the damage of her beloved truck, she gave a breathy and nervous laugh. 

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, realising that she was very lucky to be walking away with barely a few cuts. 

John hummed beside her, eyes still scanning her for the hint of an unseen injury. The worst was her arms; bare and scratched by the glass, but aside from that, she was just a little bit sore. 

“I’m fine, John,” Rook murmured, running a hand down her arm. “Just some cuts. It could have been worse.” 

The expression in his eye assured her that was exactly what he’d been fearing. 

“You’re  _ safe _ ,” he repeated, and it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

She nodded, giving him small smile. 

“I am,” she confirmed, if only to let him hear it. “Thank you, John.” 

It seemed to snap him out of his trance, and he huffed slightly under his breath; trying to regain the composure of the Baptist. 

“Of course,” John replied, reaching out to press her frayed hair behind her ear. “I  _ did  _ say I’d kill for you, after all.” 

Rook frowned. 

“What?” She said, brow furrowing as she tried to conjure up that particular memory. “When did you say that?” 

John blinked, shaking his head. 

“The  _ billboard _ ,” he answered, as though it were obvious. “Didn’t you get my message?” 

Belatedly, she remembered her anger; the reason why she’d been speeding her way to the valley in the first place. She pulled away from his touch, crossing her arms. 

“I got your  _ death threat _ , you mean,” Rook corrected him, voice low and sore. “The whole ‘kill you’ thing? Yeah, not too impressed, thanks.”

John’s mouth fell open, and then his eyes widened as he realised what had happened. 

“No, not ‘kill you’,” he hissed, fervent now. “The phone number above it, Deputy; I left the fours! ‘Kill  _ 4  _ You’, don’t you see? I said I’d ‘kill for you’, dear.” 

There was a beat of silence, and Rook found herself flushing a furious red. 

“Who the  _ fuck  _ would ever interpret it like that?” She shook her head, indignant and thoroughly confused. “The fours weren’t anywhere near the words; what the  _ hell,  _ John?” 

He scoffed. 

“I assure you, dear; many people would interpret it correctly,” John replied, and she doubted she was imagining the hurt tone to his voice. “Your companions, for one.” At her curious look, he elaborated, raising an eyebrow. “One Charlemagne Boshaw and his aunt. They gave me a very...colourful speech this morning.”

Oh, she was going to kill them. 

“They told you where I was,” Rook muttered, sighing. 

He nodded. 

“Indeed,” he said, and huffed slightly. “Told me to - and I quote - ‘come sweep you off your feet.’ I must admit; I was not aware that Charlemagne was such a romantic.” 

Rook pressed a hand to her temple.

“Nobody is doing any sweeping,” she replied, just a hint of dryness to her tone. “And I don’t need it anyway. I don’t want these big - and quite frankly, kind of creepy - gestures, John.” She paused, glancing up at him with as earnestly as she hoped she could manage, simmering with the undertones of her exasperation. “I just...want  _ you,  _ because I  _ love _ you, you idiot. _ ” _

He blinked, staring down at her and taking in her words with a strange sort of surprise; as though he was unaware that people could actually just... _ communicate  _ properly like that. Once he’d realised what she’d said, however, he let out a soft breath; as though he’d been holding onto it for far too long. 

“Well...why didn’t you just say so, darling?” John said, something breathless in his voice; chuckling as he reached out to pull her towards him. 

She scoffed, indignant in response to his tease, but she allowed herself to be brought into his arms; safe and protected as he’d promised. 

“Not all of us have to express ourselves with creepy talk of babies, you know,” Rook replied, muffled slightly by the warmth of his chest.

When he didn’t immediately respond, she glanced up at him; finding the colour drained from his face. 

A voice rang out from the nearby cult truck.

“Brother John,” Levi called out, “are you ready for us to set up the slideshow of future baby names?” 

Rook pursed her lips, staring down at the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly and dangerously, “what was”-

“Not now, Levi!” John replied, eyes wide and panicked. 

“But sir, you said as soon as we saw the Deputy, we had”-

“I said not now!” John hissed, before looking down at his darling Deputy and wincing at her raised eyebrow and unamused expression. “To be perfectly fair, my dear, this was  _ before  _ you said all of those lovely things.” 

She didn’t budge, and he huffed a laugh, hands reaching out to trace the edges of her hips. 

“Hours of work on a slideshow aside, let me try this again, shall I?” He murmured, taking the side of her cheek in one hand and staring down at her; something soft and painfully honest in his eyes. “Well, I suppose you beat me to it, didn’t you, dear?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “I love you, too.” 

And that was all she’d needed to hear. 

Rook reached a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him towards her; breathing a laugh against his lips. 

“Now, was that really so hard?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3 <3


End file.
